The Passing

Chapter Eleven [updated]

The night after my mother died when our camp was overrun by Roamers, James, my father, and a few others came up with an evacuation plan. By that point, everyone on the planet knew confrontations were inevitable— you just had to be lucky enough to be confronted by the right kind of people. They spent several months venturing east, looking for places that could act as temporary refuge. They set them up as safehouse locations in the event any of us got separated. In the decade that they have been there, I had never been to one. I only knew of their existence and purpose, but as far as everyone was concerned— we had hoped they'd rot before we'd ever have to go and find them again.

Surreal doesn't even begin to describe what it feels like as we roll through the hills. It's been hours of driving through the night, alternating between sleeping and taking a turn behind the wheel. Lazarus in the driver's seat and Savanna sleeping in the passenger seat, I'm once again left in back with Jane. While she's asleep, I still worry that at any moment she could jump up and try to kill me yet again. No matter how shattered she appeared earlier when she overheard the messages on the radio, I still don't know if I can trust her.

The car slows as we enter town. Lazarus cuts off the headlights, leaving the rising sun to light our path. We drive on, without interruption or cause to break. Not a single Roamer wanders the streets or sidewalks. All the windows and doors of the old businesses are boarded up, red X's marking each and every one. I bite the inside of my lip, stirring uneasily in my seat.

"When's the last time we had a group come out here?" I ask, rubbing my thumb along my finger. We round a corner, running over something large as the wheel cuts straight. I grip the seat in front of me, and lean over, peering outside the windshield. The road is littered with bodies.

"I think Marcus and Julie had come out here a few weeks back. But, I don't remember hearing about this." He answers after a short moment passes. "And not a damn thing about no Red Zone."

Savanna wakes, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Shit, how long have I been out?" she looks around outside and the realization hits her instantly. "Why are we here?"

"This is Lost Creek." he answers flatly.

"Oh.." as her voice trails off, Savanna hesitantly settles back in her seat, one hand gripping the seat belt, the other gripping the door, as if ready to make a run for it. Instantly, the air in the car grows taut. I gulp, looking out the back window to the buildings we pass. Clear, by the new world's definition is easy— you may have an occasional walker here and there, but nothing major. Red Zones are infestations. Impossible to clear alone.

"The house is just a little ways down the road." Lazarus says, hesitation lingering in his voice. Something wasn't right, and he felt it too. Savanna sits at the edge of her seat, her hands now rubbing the tops of her thighs. Without having to say it; we both know what she's anxious for. Mainly because I am anxious too. In just a matter of seconds, we get to see them. Sam and James, and whoever else narrowly escaped the tragedy, alive. Suddenly, I'm nervous too. I haven't seen James since the night at the church. God knows what lectures are waiting for me.

We pull onto a long narrow driveway, lined with evergreens. Gravel crunches beneath our tires as we lug forward, jostling inside the station wagon. Gripping the handle on the door, my eyes crazily search for a sign. Any sign of life or that they have arrived. The sun peeks through the luscious branches, masking the house as we roll forward. It isn't until we emerge from the tree lined driveway that the house— or what remains, comes to view. My heart plummets.

Encased by a perfect black ring and a low cloud of lingering smoke, what remains of its skeleton protrudes from the charred ground. The sun's rays force through the parting clouds above, illuminating the steam coming off the house. Before the car can even come to a stop, Savanna throws herself out, scrambling on wobbly legs to the porch.